A Minecraftian's Misfortune
by The Eldritch Author
Summary: A native Minecraftian, Richard Eldwick, has to live in a near apocalyptic city with the world plague, otherwise known as the Taint, right outside the city walls. Only after realizing his family's history as mages will help him, he sets out to reverse the corruption of the land and to save the city he loves. Rated M for violence, alcohol and possibly sexual innuendos later on.
1. Chapter 1

A Minecraftian's Misfortune

Chapter 1: The Apocalypse Revelation

My life hadn't always been chaotic. With the world seemingly falling apart around me, I pondered if there's anything I could've done to avoid it. As I shuffled through my memories, I realized there was nothing I could have done. The danger had always been there, though it wasn't obvious at first. The source of this danger, the evil and mutated creatures, the corrupted landscape, was unknown to us. My home was still intact, even though the city walls were slowly crumbling under the weight of the corruption. The city's name was Three Streams, but ever since the corruption hit our doorstep and poisoned our famous three streams, the inhabitants had taken to calling it Taintside. After all, the true name of the corruption that was at our doorstep was called the Taint.

We'd seen it coming. We knew it existed, from the very first, fateful day that we saw the purple on the horizon a year ago. We knew it existed, yet we were powerless to stop it. We had no idea how to divert this nightmare, nor do we have any idea on how to cure it. Terrible things had entered the city, Tainted Creepers, Plague Zombies, and Taint Swarms. We'd lost so many soldiers and civilians to the monsters and the various diseases caused by the Taint, including my own parents. They were both out past dark, and were killed by a Tainted Creeper. The massive explosion had vaporized them instantly... There was nothing left of them to cremate.

The law was that the dead were to be cremated, or run the risk of a zombie invasion. It's not like the undead valued the living, after all. As I thought about all this, sitting in my cobblestone basement while drinking what was left of my late father's beer, I realized something. The community library might have information on the Taint, and ways to prevent or cure it. I set down the bottle on the table next to the kegs and stood, glancing at the clock that was ticking on the other side of the table. It was the middle of the night.

I sighed and walked over to the stairs that led up to my house. At the top was a door that used to connect to the kitchen, before my house was burned by a rogue fire spread by Plague Zombies that began burning in the daylight. As I peeked out of the little window in the door, I saw a few Plague Zombies wandering through the town. My heart began racing as I feared they might smell me, they always seem to be able to sniff out the living. I grabbed a few planks of wood and barred the door with it. It should hold until morning came.

I descended the stairs and walked over to my bed, crawling in and began singing to myself softly, "Tonight we'll sail to the edge of the world and watch the stars fall down. You'll put your head in my arms as we wonder is there anything we could have done..."

I fell asleep after a few repetitions of the song, sleeping soundly until dawn broke.

I heard a loud, resounding thump. Then another. And another. There were zombies trying to break down my door. I jumped out of bed, opening a chest and grabbing my family sword. It was a rusty old blade, with moss growing on the hilt of it. My father had said it was made of a rare and durable material known as Manyullyn. However, with time the shining purple blade had faded to a black-violet rust.

Just as I pulled the blade from the chest, there was a loud crunch as my door was shattered by the undead menace on the outside. There was a soft, squishy sounding footstep, then suddenly more thumping as the zombie tumbled down my basement stairs. The zombie, unfortunately, landed on its feet. I heard more squishy footsteps descending the stairs. I muttered to myself, "Hold on... Holy shit, it's the day of the dead!"

I held my sword at the ready. As a child my father had sparred with me, teaching me how to defend myself in this hellish world where the undead assaulted the living at night. As the zombies approached, I began swinging. The blade, despite its rust and age, sliced through the abominations as if they were made of warm butter. I hacked and slashed and stabbed, not stopping until there was nothing but a pile of dismembered limbs and a puddle of blood on my floor.

I sighed, some of the blood had gotten on my clothes and skin. It evaporated in seconds, along with the remains of the zombies, which turned to dust in a small plume of smoke. There was nothing left of them but a few pieces of rotten flesh. I picked up the flesh and salted it, then I put a piece on each drying rack I had in the basement. The combination of salt and a drying rack would yield me monster jerky, which I could then eat later on without risk of being infected by the zombie plague.

I glanced at the clock again, noticing it was getting to be close to midday. I sheathed my rusty family blade at my hip, grabbing a few potions and a short necked glass water bottle, then I set out into my crumbling city. I followed the cobbled brick pathway through town, arriving at the mostly untouched inner city. I was on the doorstep of the castle, and a few remaining guards blocked my entry.

"Halt! State your name, citizenship and business." A guard barked at me, brandishing his spear. I stood erect and looked him in the eyes. "Sir, I am Richard Eldwick. I'm the son of the late Eugene Eldwick and Arianna Eldwick, the candle makers. I am from this city, Three Streams. I've come to do research in the library about the taint, to see if there's anything at all I can do about it. If there is, I would tell King Alderman about it." I explained to the man.

He paused for a moment, then nodded to his companion who went inside. After a few minutes of waiting, the companion guard returned. "The king grants you permission into the library, however he advises you to treat the books with respect, or risk the penalty of a fine. And, I really doubt a teenager such as yourself could afford to pay a fine, especially in a time of a great depression, such as this." the guard explained, holding the door open.

"I won't disrespect my lord's property. That, sir, is a promise." I said to the guard, nodding and heading inside.

Unbeknownst to me, the Taint creeped ever closer to my home, and towards the castle. Slowly, almost silently, our doom approached us.


	2. Chapter 2

A Minecraftian's Misfortune

Chapter 2: The Book Thief

As I entered the library, I got a sense of antiquity from the dusty tomes on the shelves. There were new books and old books alike. As I wandered deeper into the forgotten hallways of the massive library, some of the old, thick books gave me a sense of power. I felt as if I'd wandered into a section I shouldn't have. I studied a few of the books, some were encyclopedias, atlases, and almanacs. Others were guides, accounts of periods in history, works of fiction and non-fiction. All of them made me feel as though there was something else, lurking between their yellowing pages like a beast in the shadows.

I eventually became curious after perusing through the books, taking one off the shelf. It was a thin book, with dust all over it and even between the pages. The edges of the front cover had an intricately designed border in dark leather, the middle space being occupied by an inlaid design of gold. There was no title or author on the spine. I opened the book and inhaled the earthy smell that old books seem to give off. The first page was blank, and upon turning it I came to the title page.

It was titled "The Beginner's Guide To Thaumaturgy". I looked at it quizzically. What on earth was Thaumaturgy? I flipped through the pages, seeing text and images appearing to show how to create an magical tome called a Thaumonomicon. To get one, you needed to craft an iron capped wooden wand, then wave it over a bookshelf. Nothing that even the most idiotic, mundane person couldn't handle. I glanced around, then slipped the book into my bag and arranged the books on the bookshelf as if The Beginners Guide To Thaumaturgy had never been there.

I began poking around another section of books, some of which had their titles written on the spine in some sort of runic language. Then I realized it was the language of the Elders, an extinct race of people who lived nearly a million years before the current generation of Minecraftians. After more searching, I stumbled across a book that was yet another guide to, what seemed to me, arcane practices.

My family, unlike other families within Three Streams, actually had a history of practicing the arcane arts. The book interested me, so I discreetly snuck it into my bag like I did with the other book. Besides, who was I to deny my ancestry? After all, the Eldwicks had started as mages and wizards.

I glanced around again, looking for any more books that would interest me. Upon not finding any, I decided it was time to leave. I hadn't found anything on how to stop the Taint, but I had a feeling the two books I... borrowed, would help. As I was leaving, I marveled at the design of the castle. It was large, and I had an inkling that some, if not most of the taxpayers' money, went into improving the palace.

I left the castle around four in the afternoon. I'd been in there for roughly four hours. As I walked down the same cobbled brick path that I took to get to the castle, I saw few people wandering around. It was common sense to stay indoors with the apocalypse at your doorstep, after all. I rushed back to my house once it started getting to be close to sunset. I realized I didn't have a door, and cursed softly under my breath. I went back into my basement, grabbed my father's old pickaxe, and went to some nearby ruins of houses to get the cobblestone that served as their foundations.

After having a few near misses with things houses crumbling on top me, I took my new cobblestone, built a little wall around my house, then blocked myself inside for the night. I looked at my clock. It was about five, and I decided to dive into the books I stole from the library. I grabbed another bottle of my dad's beer, a candle, and the two books, then plopped into bed. I lit the candle using my flint and steel, uncorked the bottle and drank a little, then delved into the world of the arcane. I drank and read, and drank some more to wash away the troubles of this world, until I passed out. The books slapped to the floor, though neither them nor the furious knocking on my cobblestone door woke me up...


	3. Chapter 3

A Minecraftian's Misfortune

Chapter 3: The Cure

When I woke, it was to the sound of screaming. I woke with a start, jumping out of bed, putting my shoes on, and grabbing my pickaxe and sword. I slowly crept up the stairs, trying not to focus on the screaming. Whatever it was hadn't gotten into my basement. The screaming became less frantic, and eventually died down to a soft whimpering. I broke down my cobblestone door and my jaw dropped.

It was night, and laying on the ground was a grotesquely disfigured girl. She was horribly injured with blood pooling around her. Her flesh had been torn off in chunks. She appeared to be a teenager as well, if not younger than I was. She had freckles, her eyes were green and her hair was a gingery brown color, and what clothing she was wearing was torn and stained. The zombies must have gotten to her.

I noticed her hands were bloody, and there was blood on my cobblestone barricade. She must have been trying to get into my basement during the night. I stood in shocked silence, unable to process the situation. I felt pity for the girl, but I didn't know if there was anything I could do to help her. Then, I remembered the books. If I consulted them, there was a chance I could save her. Magic and potions might help, and after all my years helping my parents around the candle shop, I knew basic potions to help with healing, since burns were a constant hassle when working with molten wax.

The girl looked up at me and squeaked softly. I got down on my knees and looked at her. She must have been crying, since there were tracks left in the ash covering her face. And who wouldn't have been, especially if they'd been missing pieces of their body? I spoke softly, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Hey, I'm going to help you. I don't know how badly you're hurt, but I know how to make potions that will heal you. And if those don't work, then... I can use magic, hopefully." I said to her. She seemed to understand, giving me a little nod before her eyes rolled back into her head and she passed out. That was not good, if she didn't stay conscious, there was no guarantee she'd make it. Then again, there was no guarantee that consciousness would help her either.

I sighed and picked her up, carrying her carefully down my stairs into the basement. As much as I didn't want to get my bed all gross, I laid the girl in it regardless. The sheets could be washed later. I walked over to the cauldron, grabbing a bucket and filling it up with water from the infinite water source in the corner. Once the water in the cauldron was brought up to a boil, I began throwing in ingredients.

I grabbed a phial containing a small amount of Ghast tears, popping the cork off and dumping the tears into the cauldron. I grabbed, opened, and emptied a second phial into the cauldron as well, to enhance the regenerative effects. I slowly stirred the liquid with a large metal spoon, then I grabbed two glistering melons and tossed them in as well, to provide an immediate sense of relief.

I mashed and stirred the mixture, which had become a sort of pinkish-red color. I let it simmer for a few seconds, glancing at the girl laying in my bed. She was still bleeding, though her wounds had clotted slightly. I left the cauldron to tend to the girl, grabbing some cloth and string to stop the bleeding with. I carefully wrapped the cloth around the various gashes she had on her body, tightening the string around them to prevent the cloth from moving.

Once I'd taken care of covering her wounds, I quickly grabbed three empty bottles and filled them with the brew I'd created. Now came the tricky part, getting her to swallow the potions. I assumed it wasn't easy to get an unconscious person to drink potions. I set the potions down on my bedside table, then lifted the girl up with one arm. Next, I grabbed a potion bottle, raised it to her lips and carefully let the liquid flow into her mouth. She coughed a little, but other than that, she took the medicine easily. I sighed in relief. That had been easier than I thought it would be.

Now, there was nothing for me to do until she woke up again. Or, was there? I glanced around, looking for the books I'd "borrowed". One laying open on the floor next to my bed, and the other must've been on my nightstand. I grabbed the book on the floor, then sat at the foot of the bed. It was "The Beginner's Guide to Thaumaturgy". I remembered my father once said that making candles was a small part of Thaumaturgy, but I'd never asked what it meant. I opened the guide, flipping pages and skimming the text and illustrations.

After more flipping, I remembered that I could get an artifact called a Thaumonomicon which would tell me more about Thaumaturgy. I got up and searched through some chests for leftover sticks and iron ingots, then turned the ingots into nuggets. Next, I used a crafting table to turn the nuggets into iron wand caps, then apply those to the stick to make it into a wand. I smiled and twirled it around, remembering that the next step was to wave it over a bookshelf. That was going to be the harder thing to do. I wasn't sure how easy it would be for me to get paper, leather and wood for a bookshelf.

I looked around, digging through chests and searching in cupboards for materials. I came up with nothing. While searching, I'd glanced at the girl. She seemed to be healing up alright, some color had returned to her skin and she looked relaxed while she slept. Her bandages had small blood stains on them, and I knew I'd have to change them again at some point. I'd also have to stop at the market for more ingredients to make potions with and to get things to make a bookshelf.

I sighed and looked at the clock. It was nearing dawn, and I was tired from being woken up in the middle of the night. I walked over to the girl, covering her up. There wasn't much else of a place for me to sleep, so I cleared off the large table across the room from the bed and grabbed a sack of flour to rest my head on. It would have to do for now. I slowly drifted off to sleep, the ticking clock luring me into unconsciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

*Author's Note*

Just a little warning, this chapter is a kinda dark but not really. Then again, I plan on making the story darker as it goes on. Hopefully those who are reading this like it, and feel free to leave reviews with your thoughts and ideas! That's all, now enjoy the chapter!

A Minecraftian's Misfortune

Chapter 4: Awakening and Storytelling

I remembered the fire. I remembered the zombies. I remembered running, running from them and from that horrible farm. I remembered my father screaming at me to come back, he said everything would be okay. Well, he was a dirty liar. A dirty, filthy liar. He was a horrible man, and I hoped he burned or turned into a zombie.

I remembered the pale boy, almost angel-like in his mysterious entry and calming words. I remembered passing out, and being tormented by nightmares. Now, I was awake in a cobblestone basement. I was laying in a surprisingly comfy bed, and on the opposite side of the room, the angel-boy laid stretched out on a table, facing the wall. He was either dead or sleeping. I sincerely hoped he was sleeping, since I'd had enough of death. Who knew where we were?

I tried to move, but I found that there were constricting bandages covering several spots on my body, and the areas underneath them were extremely sensitive and twinging in pain. It was almost unbearable, but the pain quickly subsided. I got up anyways, trudging across the cold stone floor over to the boy. He was as pale as I remembered, and he had longish sandy blonde hair that hung in his face. He was tall and skinny, he appeared disheveled but clean, and healthy with no wounds. Lucky him.

Just as I was about to poke his shoulder, he groaned softly and rolled over. He flopped his arm over the side of the table, accidentally swatting me. He must've realized this, because he freaked out. He jerked awake, quickly patting his hip for what I assumed was a knife or sword. I flinched away, regardless. These days, everyone slept with weapons close by. When he realized it was just me and not a monster, he calmed down and blushed slightly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." I said weakly, staggering the few feet back to the bed to plop onto it. He smiled and nodded, waving it off. "It's alright. If you were a zombie, it wouldn't have been the first time they've gotten down here. I'm just glad I remembered it was you, I wouldn't have wanted to add another injury to your already substantial list there." he said, gesturing to the various bandages covering my body. I had a large one around my stomach, one on my head, and a few patches on my arms and legs.

"Oh, yeah... I didn't realize how badly I was hurt. I just kept running... Running from the hellhole of a home I left behind..." I said, trailing off. I didn't feel like retelling my story at the moment. I felt that the boy understood that, because he didn't press further. There was a pause, then he began speaking again. "So, how are you feeling miss?" he asked. Miss? How formal...

I thought a moment. The pain wasn't that bad anymore. "I'm doing alright, whatever you gave me, if you gave me anything, really worked." I told him, smiling. He smiled back, nodding. "I would hope so, I gave you a slightly overpowered health and regeneration potion. Two vials of Ghast tears are empty now, along with two glistering melons." he explained.

I was shocked. Two of each? No wonder I felt almost normal, those were expensive but powerful ingredients. "You... You spent those ingredients trying to heal me?" I said, blushing a little. He nodded again. "Of course, I'm not going to anyone die on my doorstep. Even if that means I have to spend all of my ingredients on them." he said with a smile. He was generous, but I thought perhaps a bit too much so. You'd think he'd try to conserve supplies for himself.

I was slightly suspicious of him, but I said nothing and kept myself composed. He stood and stretched, walking over to me. I second guessed myself about him being healthy. He was pretty skinny, despite being one of the city folk. Being from beyond the walls myself, it struck me as odd since most of the food produced by the outer farms was sent to the city. Then again, we did live in a time of emergency and food was being given to those who were deemed worthy, or it was found or stolen by those who thought they needed it.

"Are you hungry? I have some leftover bread and cheese, and as you can tell from the walls, plenty of beer. I might only be fifteen but who needs rules when you're living in hell?" he said, laughing softly while gesturing around to the chests and kegs. "I'll pass on the beer, but I will take some bread and cheese." I said, holding my bandaged belly. I hadn't had anything to eat in days, but I wasn't about to tell him that. I didn't want his pity.

He opened a chest and pulled out a loaf of bread and a wedge of cheese, then took it over to a cutting board and cut me off a few slices of each. When he was done, he kept once slice of bread and cheese and handed the rest to me. I smiled and took it gratefully, trying not to let it show that I was starving. I ate the food in little nibbles, as a lady does, while he had devoured his portion of the meal within a minute. After a few minutes of awkward silence, I'd finished my food. I was lost as to what to do or say, until the boy cleared his throat.

"Well... Once you're better, what do you plan to do?" he asked. The question struck me as odd, just like his skinny frame did. "What do I plan to do? Why, I don't know, honestly... What family I have to go back to is..." I cut myself off, looking away from him. "To say the least, my father is the last person I want to see at the moment. My mother was gone years ago, when I was just a little tyke. The rest of my family lives across the sea, they're more fortunate, you see, and they live in the southeastern islands..." I trailed off again, it was a bad habit. It was hard to remember my family.

"I understand. Rough family life, huh? I had a friend who had to deal with the same thing." he said in a sympathetic tone. I scoffed at him internally. There was no way in hell his friend had been through what I had. I debated on whether or not to tell him about my father and his crazy experiments and the awful things he'd done to me. I crossed my legs, crossing my arms as well. I was going to tell him, what did I have to lose?

"There's... Well, my father was a horrible man, he did awful things to innocent people, myself included. He had these crazy experiments, he might have led his life as a simple farmer man, but he started a city dweller like you. Graduated at the top of his class, he was intelligent and prosperous, and somewhere along the line he met my mother. Well, he was prosperous until the dept from the university payments forced us to basically become slaves to the city, and we were forced into the Outer Rim, the outskirts of the city where all the farms are. Then he got this nutty idea of curing the zombies that attacked our home every night, only one night the stupid bastard let them in and they bit my mother..." I said, looking down at my feet. I only had my leggings left, and those had holes in them. My shoes had fallen off while I ran.

After a short pause and a wiggling of my toes, I continued on with my tale. "When my mother turned, my father couldn't accept it. She turned in front of my eyes. My father kept her in a cage because he knew, that bastard, he knew she'd turn eventually, and he'd try to save her. But, with his love gone, who else did he have to turn to but his daughter? He... Well, I'll let you fill in the blanks there, city boy. You're probably smart enough to figure that out. Anyways, once that began, I began hating him more. I blame him for all this shit that's happened to me, because it is his fault!" I said angrily, grabbing a fistful of sheets and squeezing it.

City boy kept quiet, processing the information. I assumed that most likely the roughest story he'd heard. Eventually, he spoke up. "That's just... I can't believe how some people get when in times of crisis. It's disgusting." he said with a look of disbelief on his face. I took the chance to continue once more. "That's not all, either. After years of silence, out of the blue, my mother started wailing. She did it for hours on end, it was horrible. At night we would be swarmed by more zombies than before. Eventually the zombies broke through our barricades and I was forced to run. My father's laboratory was overrun with the undead, and I got these wounds trying to escape." I said, gesturing at all my bandages.

"I just ran, I didn't think about where or what direction, I just ran for days. I guess I ran here, but everyone turned me away because they thought I'd turn too. Which reminds me, aren't you worried I'll turn?" I asked, looking at the city boy sheepishly. He shook his head no. "I don't know how long your dad was cut off from the city for, but there was recently a cure created for zombie infections. I have one syringe left, if you're willing to take a needle in the arm." he said, patting the chest he was sitting on.

Again, I was shocked. I definitely wasn't used to people being generous. "Oh, thank you, but... If it's your last syringe, maybe you should save it for yourself?" I said, doing a poor job at hiding the fact that I wanted it. He waved me off again. "I have better things that work as well as syringes. See?" he said, picking up a book. It was written in some sort of script I didn't recognize. "What is that? We never learned that in school." I asked, tilting my head. He looked confused. "You can't read this? To me, it looks like Standard Galactic, the language that's always been taught." he said. I shook my head no. "That's some sort of ancient... Rune language." I said.

Suddenly, as though struck by lightning, the boy stiffened, then facepalmed. "I'm such an idiot! I, uh... Well, long story short... My family, the Eldwicks, were skilled practictioners of the arcane arts, and therefore the rune language is hardwired into my brain." he said, knocking his knuckles against his head. I giggled softly and scooted back into bed. "Well, have fun with your spells. I'm going back to bed. We've been talking all day, either that or we slept all day and talked for a little while." I said, nodding to the clock, which said it was nearly nine at night.

"Jeez, I guess we did talk the day away. I'll tell you about myself tomorrow, farm girl." he said, looking at the bed. "You can keep that bed, it's got your blood on it." he laughed, crawling back onto the table. I shrugged and cuddled into the blankets, which smelled faintly of wood smoke. I wasn't complaining, the bed was cozy. I felt bad for being a burden on him, but at least I'd had the good fortune to lay on the doorstep of a generous guy. "Good night, city boy." I said, smiling a little. I heard him reply softly, "Good night, country girl." And then, with my eyelids growing ever heavier, I fell asleep.


End file.
